Just an hour?
by aBoyWillDo
Summary: 2nd try at R/Hr. Delicately smutty. Plot-lets and themes will be developed in better stories later.


Author's note: I'm new to the Ron/Hermione universe. This is a dabble in that directions. I'm planning to take my themes and plot-lets to better places. Consider this as a placeholder until better material comes along.

Ron kissed Hermione. They were nestled on a plush couch in the Room of Requirement, secure in the knowledge that they would not be found. She slid her arms around his neck. He searched for the least awkward place to put his hands. He accidentally brushed against Hermione's chest before settling on her hips. Hermione tensed for a moment in his embrace. He pulled away wondering if he'd upset her.

"Ron?" she questioned, not realizing he was worried about her.

"You got all tense. I just want to make sure you're okay. With this. With being here," Ron said.

"Of course it's okay. It's more than okay."

She threw her arms around Ron's neck, and Ron's hands fell easily around her waist this time. She melted into him as they kissed. She let her tongue slide easily between his somewhat parted lips. Her fingers twined into his unkempt hair, pulling him closer. His hands slipped to the exposed skin of her back between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans. She let out a small squeak. She didn't loosen her grip, so Ron took it as a sign of encouragement. He slid his hands farther up her back. He found his palms resting over the band of Hermione's bra.

He didn't know what to do. This wasn't a frenzied, now-or-never, back-room grope. He wanted a reaction, any reaction, to tell him what to do. She didn't so much as flinch. He desperately sought a clue. Ron was determined not to mess it up. He left his hands in place as he moved to kiss her neck. She turned her head, and he kissed the soft hollow below her ear. He paused and traced circles on her back with his fingertips, silently asking his question. She released her grip on his hair and pulled back enough to look him in the eye. She nodded.

"Are you sure?" he whispered. "Because if you don't want t-"

She caught his lips mid-sentence and let her kiss speak for her. He fumbled with the hooks, but managed to unfasten it faster than either of them expected. Ron wondered how he was going to get it actually off with Hermione's shirt still on, so he was surprised when the strapless garment fell away from her body. After setting the bra aside, he put his hands on her hips again. She took him by the shoulders and pulled them over so that they were lying beside each other. They kissed like that for a few minutes before Hermione shifted to see Ron's face. She smiled at his look of timid anticipation.

"Just do what feels right," she told him.

Timidity abandoned his expression. He watched her face as he slid his hand up her shirt and kissed her softly as he traced her curves. He grew more confident as he explored and was soon skimming his thumb over places that made her gasp as she buried her face into his neck. He felt her heat against him and wondered when exactly they had lost their shirts. The loss of clothing didn't appear to bother Hermione. In fact, she seemed more excited by this progression. Ron wasn't complaining; he was enjoying himself, and her. A persistent beeping stopped him mid-motion.

"Damn it," Hermione swore.

"What is that?" Ron asked glancing around, afraid that interruptions might become a trend in his life.

"It's my watch alarm. I set it to make sure we go back before people start walking the halls. It's 3A.M. A lot of times Snape is up at 4."

"So we have an hour," Ron said with a suggestive smile.

"Do you want to cut it close like that? Of all the teachers, I really don't want to get caught by Snape," Hermione reasoned.

"I don't either, but I don't want to go."

"Neither do I. We could always— stay here," she said sheepishly. "This is the Room of Requirement. We'll have fresh clothes and books before we leave."

The couch under them transformed into a bed as Ron agreed. He tugged a sheet over them as Hermione shivered. They stared awkwardly at each other as the implications of their new setting dawned on them. They scooted together, blushing. They kissed hesitantly, like a first kiss. And it was a first for them.

_Do what feels right_, Ron told himself. He reached for her waist and pulled her close before sliding his hand to her rear. She hooked a leg over his, and he moaned at the sudden, unintentional friction. She ran her fingers along the blush that spread across his face. He held her tighter, wanting them both to forget the embarrassing flush of his skin. Her body pressed tightly against his. Ron could feel the heat of her chest and the pressure of her hips. He choked back a noise of want and frustration. She kissed his flaming cheek. And along his jaw. And the curve of his neck. Her hand lingered on his shoulder before her fingertips trailed down his bare chest. Ron's blood was surging, and he could feel everything from the curve of her leg to the strands of dark hair that draped across his arm. He kissed her. She shifted and maneuvered her hand to the fly of Ron's pants. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Hermione." It was part statement, part question, part moan. She worked his zipper down. He squirmed wanting more of her hand. He struggled with the buttons on her jeans, trying to keep things even.

"Have you ever done this before?" Hermione asked. Ron jumped back, horrified.

"Oh, god," he said, "I'm doing it wrong." His face changed from a shocked purple to a queasy green to a Malfoy-ish white to his standard blush. Hermione moved to hold him. He hid his face against her chest, too embarrassed to have her look at him.

"Not at all," she replied, kissing the top of his head. "You just seem really, really nervous, jumpy, like you're unsure about…I don't know…just unsure."

"I haven't before," Ron mumbled, "but I get the feeling you have. And I want to impress you."

"Ron, I'm impressed," she said, "that you care enough to want to impress me. Now, stop hiding."

Figuring that the best way to impress her would be to obey, Ron kissed from her sternum to the spot below her ear. She dragged her fingers down his back as she moved south. Her hands moved into his trousers to touch bare skin. And in that moment, Ron knew all he wanted was skin. His. Hers. Everywhere and everything.

"Hermione," he gasped, "if we keep going, we'll probably…you know."

"Good."

She squeezed her knees on either side of his hips and rolled them until he was flat on his back staring up at her as she straddled him. He choked and let his hands creep up her thighs. She smiled down at him as she popped the remaining buttons on her jeans. He trembled as she drew circles on his stomach. He squirmed under her, and she let out an appreciative noise as he did something right, though he had no idea what. Ron decided he loved that noise. He reluctantly rolled her off him; there was no way he could encourage the shedding of clothing with her sitting like that, let alone distracting him like that. He kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her, and was determined to kiss her until she lost the jeans. He didn't want to stare, but oh how he wanted to stare. He got them over her hips and let her kick them off. He ran his hand shoulder to thing, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. He didn't see Hermione's hand aiming for his hips. Every muscle in his body tensed as she tugged his pants down; he was barely able to kick them off.

"Open your eyes," Hermione urged, her voice warm against his ear. With great difficulty Ron looked at her.

"God, you're gorgeous," he groaned.


End file.
